Hafiza’s mouth cracked into a grin. “This
is life, Yrene. We never stop learning. Even at
my age.”
Yrene had long suspected that love of
learning was what had kept the Healer on
High young at heart all these years. She just
smiled back at her mentor.
But Hafiza’s eyes softened. Grew
contemplative. “We will remain for as long as
we are needed—until the khagan’s soldiers
can be transported home. We’ll leave some
behind to tend for any remaining wounded,
but in a few weeks, we will go.”
Yrene’s throat tightened. “I know.”
“And you,” Hafiza went on, taking her
hand, “will not return with us.”
Her eyes burned, but Yrene whispered,
“No, I won’t.”
Hafiza squeezed Yrene’s fingers, her hand
warm. Strong as steel. “I shall have to find
lily
(lily)
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